


Music Geek Nirvana

by ottertrashpalace



Category: Phandom/The Fantastic Foursome (YouTube RPF)
Genre: American AU, Fluff, Fluff up the wazoo, High School AU, Lil bit of parental neglect, M/M, Phan - Freeform, Soz, like basically me being a choir nerd, no mentions of the band nirvana, nothing graphic, overuse of ellipses, pianist!Dan, singer!phil, the singing of a particular Britney Spears song
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2015-08-28
Updated: 2015-08-28
Packaged: 2018-04-17 15:37:54
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 2
Words: 3,023
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/4672037
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/ottertrashpalace/pseuds/ottertrashpalace
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>Music Ho AU where Dan is a lonely pianist and Phil is a modest but excellent soloist in the choir Dan is accompanying. The rest is basically my personal relationship fantasy.</p>
            </blockquote>





	1. Warming Up

**Author's Note:**

> This is set in an American high school, because a. that's what I know about and b. I don't see to many so ¯\\_(ツ)_/¯ enjoy

Dan was early to school, like always. You'd think that a friendless sixteen year old pianist would have no reason to show up at seven, right?

Dan smiled almost imperceptibly at the thought. He wasn't entirely friendless; he had Ms. Pentland, after all. _And that,_ he mused as he entered the band room, _may in fact be the lamest thing ever_.

Ms. Pentland was in her office. She waved to Dan through the glass, her ear glued to the phone. Dan waved back a little and started to get his music out. He probably should've been finishing that factoring sheet for precalculus, but he couldn't quite bring himself to dig it out.

He started tinkering a little bit, playing some scales and warmups. "Hey, Dan?" Ms. Pentland called out of her office.

"Yeah?" Dan replied, finishing his arpeggio.

"The choir needs an accompanist for their concert on Sunday, do you think you could do it?"

Dan barely even considered the offer. "Sure, have you got the sheet music?" He had approximately no life, and it's not like his parents cared. As soon as he stared driving himself places, he felt practically like an emancipated minor. Of course, being the nerd that he was, he used his newfound freedom not to party all night but to spend all of his spare time practicing the piano.

"Music's on the printer." He heard Ms. Pentland answer him.

He walked over to the printer and picked it up. It was "Ol' Man River", from the musical Showboat. "Really?" Dan whispered to himself. The piece was terribly overdone, and there was no way there was a baritone that good in high school.

Nevertheless, he stood the music above his fingers and started to practice.

Rehearsal was fourth period. Dan easily weaseled his way out of English (his best academic class) and showed up to the choir room with his music portfolio in hand. He vaguely recognized Mr. Fletcher, the choral director, who was greeting him with a smile.

"You must be Dan." He said jovially.

"Yes," Dan replied, resisting the urge to fiddle with his papers.

"Very well, go ahead and put your stuff down. We've got to warm up first, so you can watch for now."

Dan took a seat off to the side, watching as about twenty kids filed in, talking raucously. None of the guys caught Dan's eye until a tall black-haired guy in an Adventure Time hoodie burst through the doorway only seconds before the bell rang, papers flying everywhere. They made eye contact briefly, and Dan smiled. Adventure Time Hoodie smiled back a little as he took his seat in the middle of the choir.

Mr. Fletcher sat at the piano and started leading the group in warm ups. Dan was a little impressed by how unified the sound was, even though they were singing about mashing m&ms or something equally strange. He tried to pick out Adventure Time Hoodie's voice, but they were all too well blended.

Eventually, Mr. Fletcher finished up and gestured for Dan to come forward. "This is Dan, everybody. We're borrowing him from Jazz Band while Jane is out sick."

There was unhappy murmuring. Dan ignored it and went ahead setting out his music.

"All right, quiet please. Take out Ol' Man River, we need to get used to singing it with Dan before the dress rehearsal." Mr. Fletcher turned to Dan and gave a free measure. Dan started to play the piece, a little jerkily at first. It was fairly easy, but having a new conductor is always weird.Eventually, he got through the intro and paused at the fermata, bracing himself for a wobbling, scratchy teenaged baritone.

"There's an old man named the Mississippi..."

Dan almost missed his cue. His eyes must have been as wide as two moons. This was no pubescent boy; whoever had this solo had the pipes of a trained adult. Dan lost himself a little in the rich, rolling tones, letting his fingers do the work on the keys. Finally, the song ended with a glorious chord, and the memory of sound seemed to shimmer in the air.

Dan took back what he had thought previously about the song being overdone.

"Very good, I think we've come pretty far, yes?" Says Mr. Fletcher. The class chuckles. "Any spots?"

One of the altos raised her hand. "On page three, at measure 74, when the tenors and the seconds split, I think we're missing the minor third."

"All right, measure 74 everyone, first score, last bar. Dan, play the pitches." he played the starting pitches for each part, and then played along accordingly as they went over the section.

"Oh, and Phil, can you come down here?"

The soloist. I looked up, and to my surprise, saw Adventure Time Hoodie-- Phil-- coming down off the steps. He was the amazing soloist? 

The rest of the period went by remarkably quickly, and I seemed not to be able to keep myself from getting shivers down my spine each time the man sang.

"Hey, Dan?" Mr. Fletcher tapped me on the shoulder as is started to pack up. I stopped and listened. "Could you possibly stay at lunch to work with Phil on his solo?"

 _Are you kidding me?_ "Yeah, sure, I'd love too."

"That's the spirit." Mr. Fletcher thumped me on the back. Dan began to set out his things again. Food could most definitely wait if it meant spending time with Mister Smooth Rich Baritone.

The room emptied out quickly after the bell, and it was just Dan and Phil and Mr. Fletcher disappearing into his office-- "tell me if you boys need anything."

Phil awkwardly approached the piano. "Hi, I'm Phil. Don't think we've met properly."

"Don't think so. I'm Dan." Dan said, pretending he didn't have butterflies in his stomach. "So... Do you wanna start from the beginning?"

He scooted over on the piano bench, hoping Phil would take the invitation to sit down. He did, and Dan would be lying if he said his heart didn't jump a little. Tapping out a tempo with his foot, he began to play.

It took all of his concentration not to melt inside as Phil began to sing, directly next to his ear. They worked organically for the next fifteen minutes, and Phil-- how was this even possible?-- actually _improved_.

They ran the solo back through for the last time, and an awkward silence ensued. "Think we're good?" Asked Dan, trying to make the question open ended as he by no means wanted to end this little practice session, even though his fingers were aching and his stomach was growling.

"I dunno... What do you think?" Phil replied, turning to face Dan.

"What do I think?" Dan repeated, taken aback. Phil looked at him expectantly. "I think... It was brilliant. You're incredible." Dan answered sincerely.

Phil raised his eyebrows. "Really? Thank you."

Dan couldn't stand the look on his face. He'd seen it before-- every musician has. It's the face of someone who doesn't think they're talented. You don't usually see it on someone who gives you goosebumps just by opening their mouth.

"Really!" Dan spluttered. "You're the best baritone I've ever heard at our age. You remind me of... of Frank Sinatra, Van Dam, Fischer-Dieskau, Brendon Urie. Every note you hit sends chills down my spine." Dan is pretty sure his cheeks are reddening. He hadn't meant to have an outburst, but he was determined that Phil would not undervalue himself.

Phil was blushing too. "You really think so? Moreover, you know who Brendon Urie is?"

"Of course. And... wait, do you listen to Panic?"

"Yeah, I love them! I only wish I could play the piano." Phil spread his fingers into what Dan thought was an attempt at a D chord.

Dan smiled and playfully started the intro to This is Gospel, his favorite of the band's ballads. To his delight, Phil started to sing.

"This is gospel, for the fallen ones, locked away in permanent slumber..."

Dan let himself lean into the notes, putting more feeling into these chords than he ever could into Kern and Hammerstein. When the chorus started, he hummed the harmony. If there is a music geek nirvana, he thought, this would be it.

Eventually, the song had to end. Dan wished it could just go on for hours, but alas...

"You know," said Phil, doing that infuriating little half smile of his, "I do know one thing on the piano." "And what's that?" Dan said, raising his eyebrow. Phil shifted Dan aside gently and pretended to examine the keyboard closely. He then began to play Mary Had A Little Lamb.

"Shut up," Dan laughed, and shoved a giggling Phil in the arm. "You know what my favorite thing is to play?"

He began to play a very particular riff, watching Phil's go from interested to irritated as he realized what Dan was playing.

"We're no strangers to love!" He sang mockingly before Dan stopped playing to clutch his stomach in laughter.

"You asshole." Phil whined.

"You know it" cackled Dan.

Before they knew it, lunch was over, and Dan could not be more excited for fourth period the next day.


	2. Climbing Higher

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Dan met Phil when he had to accompany the school choir on the piano, and Phil's voice steals his heart.  
> You can probably read this as a oneshot separately from part 1, but context is always useful.

The next day, Dan didn't make it to school early. It was nearly eight when he stumbled out of his car, backpack unzipped and hair unstraightened.

His dad had chosen the previous night to kill Dan's post-Phil good mood by asking him when he was going to "actually start trying" in his math class and "stop wasting all his time on this music thing" and "why don't I help you with your work if you're having so much trouble."

This happened occasionally, when his Dad's job gave him a break from traveling and he took the opportunity to pretend he cared about his son's education. The man was an overworked project manager, and nothing stressed Dan out more than having to struggle through math that made even less sense when his dad was "helping."

He shuffled into his world history class, and tried to gauge whether Ms. Kendall would let him sleep through the period. As it turned out, Ms. Kendall wouldn't. Dan's face was still burning as the bell rang. Any kind of public humiliation was Dan's worst nightmare, but hurt even more coming from after what his dad had said the night before.

Fortunately, third period was when he aided for Ms. Pentland in the band room. It was a beginning class, and the terrible music always chafed his ears, but at least Ms. Pentland let him shut himself in the practice room all class unless she needed copies or something.

Today, however, when he handed her the attendance, she said "You know, why don't you go next door and work on the piece for the choir? You do need to have it down by Sunday."

Dan nodded. He told himself he needed to practice, but there was a small inkling in the back of his mind of _what if Phil's there?_

He was not disappointed.

He opened the choir room door carefully, unsure if there was a class, but the room was empty-- mostly. He heard the faint echo of a song coming from inside one of the practice rooms.

" _With a taste of your lips, I'm on a ride_

 _You're toxic, I'm slipping under"_  

He unwittingly held his breath, and went to knock on the door.

" _With a taste of your poison--"_  

To Dan's dismay, the singing cut off as soon as he tapped the door. It promptly opened, and a familiar black fringe peeked out.

"Oh, hey, Dan." Phil said, letting Dan in. "Did you want to look at Ol' Man?"

"Yeah, but I don't mind listening." He blushed.

"Ah, thanks." Phil's pale cheeks reddened. "If you're here, though, I think we should practice Ol Man River. I mean, you're such a good pianist..."

Dan's heart leaped, and he smiled. "Thank you."

There was a small silence. Now that they were close, Dan could see the day's growth of stubble under Phil's chin, and the way his lips parted slightly when he was thinking, and...

"So... Have you got your music?" Phil asked.

"Oh, yeah." Dan opened his folder onto the piano and took out the sheets. He sank down automatically onto the piano bench, next to Phil.

As he leaned forward to find the notes, he could feel the slight wind of breath pass his hair. Bar sixteen called for him to reach across to the highest E, and he felt himself lean slightly into Phil's warm, broad frame.

Of course, his heart melted like butter when Phil sang--that much hadn't changed--but it somehow seemed much more intimate, just the two of them in a room no bigger than twenty square feet. Phil only missed his cue once, and although Dan hated to admit it, he didn't really need practice.

In the silence after they had finished, Dan tinkered a melody on the piano. A measure in, he heard Phil hum along.

" _Baby, can't you see, I'm falling... A guy like you should wear a warning..._ "

Dan bit his lip. This was so different from Phil's choral singing, it was husky and guttural and breathy, and oh, the things he would do to hear that boy moan.

" _It's dangerous..._ " Dan looked up from the keyboard, locking eyes with Phil. They were inches apart. " _I'm... falling._ " Phil practically whispered.

Dan couldn't help himself. Their lips pressed together, and Dan could've sworn, in that moment, that he had never been happier.

After a few seconds, they parted, and Dan's eyes fluttered open. Immediately, he regretted it. Kissing someone you've known for two days? Way too forward. He had basically just forced himself on Phil, hadn't he? Any chance he'd had was probably ruined.

"I--" he started to apologize, but Phil had one hand behind his neck, gently pulling him into another kiss.

Dan abandoned any attempt at logic and wrapped his arms around Phil's waist, feeling the tight muscles moving beneath his shirt. He tasted of toothpaste and cereal.

The bell rang, punctuating the silence between them. Slowly, they broke apart again, and phil put his mouth to Dan's ear.

"Wa, wa, wawawa." He sang obnoxiously, imitating the riff from Toxic.

Dan burst out laughing. "You _dork_." He said, pushing Phil's shoulder playfully.

"You love me."

"I think I might."

\---

Sunday came quickly, and it was soon time for Dan to prepare for the concert. Mr. Fletcher had instructed him to wear "something nice, but not too colorful," which was fine, because most of Dan's wardrobe was black or very, very dark grey.

He decided on a white blouse covered with grey moths, and his best pair of black skinny jeans. He threw on a hoodie before going downstairs, as neither of his parents really approved of his fashion choices.

"See ya," he yelled to his mother, and he locked the door behind him. He was a tad early, but there was one detour he wanted to take before arriving.

After completing this little chore, he pulled up a the school. Girls in floor length dresses and boys in bow ties swarmed the auditorium, but Dan managed to make it backstage. He stored his cargo in a dusty corner, trusting it wouldn't be disturbed.

 _Phil looks really good in a bow tie,_  he thought absentmindedly, as the choir did their warmups. He shook his head. _Concentrate_.

After the beginning choirs had sung their pieces, it was performance time. Dan took his place at the piano, giving Phil a small smile of encouragement from where he sat. Phil smiled back, albeit nervously, and wiped his palms on his pants. Dan turned his attention back to the keyboard and Mr. Fletcher, who was to give the cue as soon as the curtain opened.

Before Dan knew it, the piece was underway. His fingers found their familiar places, and he could feel the entire auditorium holding its breath, waiting for Phil to start.

"There's an old man called the Mississippi..." Phil's voice wobbled a little, but he quickly found his stride.

Dan was convinced that every time the man sang sounded better than the last, and this was no exception. His vibrato echoed off the high ceiling, and the low notes he hit seemed to send a buzz through the Dan's very veins. The audience gave him a standing ovation.

After the curtains had closed, Dan took advantage of the ensuing chaos to slip into the dressing rooms and pick up his last-minute errand: a single, blood-red rose, which, thankfully, had not wilted.

He wound his way back to the lobby, where he saw Phil, in all of is six-foot glory, uncomfortably surrounded by a cocktail of doting parents and kids who thought he might be able to contribute somehow to their social status.

Dan approached. "Hey, Phil? Um, Mr. Fletcher wants to see you."

"Oh.. Does he? Sorry, I've got to go." Phil said, failing to look sorry at all.

Dan led Phil a little ways down the corridor, where it was quieter. Phil took a deep breath.

"Does Mr. Fletcher actually need to see me?"

"Nope." Dan smiled. "I just wanted to ask you..." He pulled the rose out from behind his back. "You sing like an angel and you are the cutest person I've ever met... do you want to be my boyfriend?"

Phil's cheeks went red, almost as red as Dan was sure his were.

"Of course." Phil said sweetly, and pulled Dan in for a long kiss.

"Get a room!" Someone yelled.

Dan remove one hand from Phil's neck to point his middle finger in that general direction, resulting in a burst of laughter.

A million moments later, the kiss ended, and Dan leaned his head on Phil's shoulder.

"So," Phil said lightly, "what exactly are the expectations here?"

Dan paused to think for a second. "ah, let's see. Lots of kisses, late night cuddles, and you singing lot?"

Phil placed a kiss on Dan's head.

"Only if you play the piano a lot, too."

"Deal."

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> I like this AU so much I might consider doing another part of this-- any thoughts or suggestion?  
> Later note: the irl guy that inspired this turns out to be gay so I suppose this is kind of ironically appropriate

**Author's Note:**

> Here's links to the songs I mentioned:  
> Ol' Man River (choral): [https://youtu.be/-hICnVDOpnE]  
> This is Gospel (acoustic): [https://youtu.be/jO2_3pVd5k0]  
> If this gets like 100 kudos I might write a second part, so comment/kudos if you'd like that. Thanks! Feedback is always hugely appreciated


End file.
